The page on which I write was once a small seed that fell to the earth;
and God sent rain.
It grew in the soil and sprouted as a sprig above the ground;
He created nutrients in the rich dirt.
He sent winds and storms over the years to make the trunk strong;
and the tree grew mighty in the forest.
At the right age, the lumberjack laid an eye on the tree;
and the tree was felled.
It was milled by the hands of man,
It was pressed into pages and lined with ink;
and it was bound in cowhide.
This is the page of paper on which I write.
We tend to forget God’s common grace. We forget God’s magnificent gifts and blessings of this life bestowed on the good and the wicked. Consider the abundant blessings in the seemingly mundane – The air you breathe, the sweat on your brow, the water you drink, the sweet apple you eat, the seed, the sun, the rain, the tree and the paper. There is a gift nature to all that God has created because, in the beginning He said, “It is good.” All gifts from God are good. All good things come from His hand – because He is good. My meager gratefulness is no match for God’s goodness in the mundane.
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